Runaways (4 page)

“We are real people. It's not our fault no one's noticed lately,” she would declare angrily.

Weekends were almost like auditions for us. Prospective adoptive parents were brought to the home to look at and talk to any child they might want to adopt. Having us working like little elves on the property was thought only to enhance our prospects, for potential mothers and fathers would see that we were productive and far from spoiled by our lives as wards of the state. Today was no different. Just after we had spread our blanket and sprawled out to enjoy our picnic, Louise came looking for Butterfly.

“There you are, Janet,” she said walking over to us and gazing down at Butterfly. “They've seen your pictures and come to meet you,” she declared in that official voice of hers. Whenever she took on that tone, I felt my heart flutter.

“Who?” Butterfly asked.

“Their names are Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart,” Louise replied. “Come along, Janet. Brush down your dress, please,” she ordered. She stepped up to her and played with her curls. “I hate when they just come by like this without a full day's warning.”

“Don't they often come by on Saturdays or Sundays?” I asked.

“You know what I mean,” she replied. I shook my head. “Honestly, Brooke, you can be so . . . uncooperative sometimes. Why don't you model your behavior on Crystal? She knows when to speak and when to be silent,” she added.

“I speak when I have something to say and when I know it will do some good,” Crystal said.

“See?” Louise followed, missing Crystal's sarcasm by a mile. “Janet, please stand up straight and don't squint so much. Come now, Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart are waiting.”

Butterfly looked back at us nervously. I held my thumb up.

“Good luck,” Raven called.

“I can't understand why she hasn't been grabbed up before now anyway,” I said as they walked toward the house. “She's adorable, sweet, bright.”

Crystal put down her book and looked at both of us.

“Each of us has something special, if anyone would ever take the time to notice. People shop for children these days almost the way they shop for everything else. They don't see us as people, just as another kind of possession. This home is like a department store. I'm tired of waiting, tired of feeling like a piece of merchandise,” she added with uncharacteristic emotion. I raised my eyebrows.

“That's exactly how I feel,” Raven said. “I just hate being looked over like an animal in the pet store.”

“You better get used to being stared at, Raven,” I joked. “You're beautiful . . . everyone looks at you.”

Raven suddenly became subdued. “It's not like I ask for the attention; and besides, that kind of attention I don't need. You know I'm always trying to get people to see the real me, the singer, the one with dreams.”

“I was only kidding, Raven, we know you don't go looking for boys to follow you around like puppies. They just do.” I felt bad now; Raven was really upset.

“It's all right. I know you guys understand me. It's just that I get sad sometimes. I don't think I'll ever find anyone who likes me for me, not just for how good they think I'll make them look.”

Crystal and I looked at each other sadly. We knew what it was like to feel like we'd never be loved.

Butterfly didn't come out again until we had finished lunch. We were just folding our blanket when she appeared, head down, walking slowly. Crystal was right about us all feeling like some item in a department store, I thought as I looked at Butterfly. How do you audition for life, for a family? Do you try to speak correctly? Do you smile as much as you can so they will think you're generally a happy person? Sometimes, they look at you closer than a doctor. You wonder if you should have washed behind your ears. Do you have bad breath? Shouldn't you be wearing the best thing you had? What were the right answers to their stupid questions? “How would you like living with us?”

How would we like it? What do you think? We'd hate it. We'd rather stay here and be nobody.

“What were they like?” Raven asked Butterfly immediately.

“They were nice,” she said.

“Old or young?” Crystal asked.

“Not old. She's very pretty. She has nice eyes my color and my color hair. She said I looked like I could be their child.”

“Wow!” Raven said. “Good-bye, Butterfly.”

She looked at us, her face suddenly full of fear.

“If they want you, Butterfly, they'll make a warm, loving home for you,” I said. “You will be happier.”

She nodded.

“Where do they live?” Crystal asked.

“Near Albany.”

“That's nice,” Crystal said. “I bet they'll put you in a good school too.”

“We're not going to be here forever, Butterfly,” I said when I saw her sadness at the thought of leaving us. “Raven, Crystal and I would love to have the chance you're getting. We're happy for you.”

She nodded, her eyes filling with understanding.

“Let's play Ping-Pong,” Raven said, taking her hand. There was a table behind the house.

“I'll meet you all in a while,” Crystal said. “I'm going to run down to the library.”

Butterfly looked at me.

“I'll see you guys later. I want to get the softball equipment and hit a few.”

We all separated and I went to the supply closet off Louise's office where the sports equipment and our CD players and radios were kept.

As I went into the closet, I saw the Lockharts, the couple who had met with Butterfly. They did look like a nice, young couple, happy, well-dressed, the sort of parents who would love and cherish someone as sweet as Butterfly. The walls were so thin in
this house, it was easy to put my ear to the one between the closet and Louise's office and listen to their conversation. I was hoping I would hear the good news and bring it to everyone first.

“Yes, I know how you feel,” Louise said. “She's adorable. However,” she continued, “I must give you some more detail about her so you won't have any unpleasant surprises,” she added.

“Unpleasant?” the young woman asked warily.

“Well, difficult is a better word, I suppose. She's been seeing the psychotherapist more lately. I'll read you a bit. ‘Janet suffers from a deeply entrenched sense of inferiority. Her catatonic seizures are a direct result of this. She withdraws to a state of immobility, shutting down her senses, as a defense against the fear of rejection.'”

“Catatonic? That little girl?”

“Oh yes. I've had to call the paramedics a few times,” Louise said.

My mouth dropped. She hadn't. Not once.

“Oh dear.”

I heard the deep note of resignation. Their retreat had begun.

Furious, I marched out of the supply closet and pounded up the stairs to Crystal's room, hoping to catch her before she left for the library. She took one look at me and dropped her book bag.

“What?” she asked.

“Louise is sabotaging Butterfly. I heard her telling the prospective parents about Butterfly's psychological condition. She made Butterfly sound like some lunatic who falls into catatonic states all the time and needs constant medical attention.”

Crystal just nodded.

“Why would she do that, Crystal?”

“Simple,” Crystal replied. “I told you before.
Foster parents receive more money as the children under their care get older. So the longer the system fails to find permanent homes for kids like us, the more money flows in. We're a little money machine for the Tooeys.”

“That's horrible! How can Louise use us like that?” I asked angrily.

“Well, in Louise's case, I think it's more complicated. She really hates to give any of us up. Gordon wants the money, but Louise really cares in her own way. She thinks of us as her own children.”

“What use is having someone care for you if they just end up holding you back, trying to turn you into their idea of the perfect child?” I'd been through that before—I couldn't believe that it was going to happen again.

“Do you have an alternative?” Crystal questioned. I stared at her a moment.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Let's just run away,” I said finally.

She didn't laugh, as I'd expected; instead she looked at me intently and then shook her head.

“I better stay here today. Butterfly might need me,” she said with a sigh. “Let's not tell Butterfly what Louise is doing. It would make her too sad to think she may never leave here. And I wouldn't mention the running away thing either.”

“But I'm serious, Crystal.”

She turned her back to me and stared out the window.

I was serious. I really was. I just had to make everyone else believe me.

A
fter Raven and Butterfly played Ping-Pong they came down to the ball field and I pulled Raven aside and told her what Louise had done. She wanted us to barge into her office and confront her.

“We'll turn that place upside down and then rip out her hair,” she threatened.

“I'd like to, but we can't. I don't want her to know I was eavesdropping,” I explained, “and second, do you want to face Gordon afterward?”

Raven simmered down. The image of Gordon Tooey enraged was enough to calm even her Latin temper. In the winter when it was very cold and Gordon's breath could be seen at his nostrils, I thought it looked more like smoke from a dragon.

“Well, it's not fair. We should be able to tell someone,” she moaned.

“Like they'll listen to us,” I said. “The only hope we have is to run away and make our own lives.”

“Run away?” She stared at me with wide eyes. “That's an idea,” she said and looked disappointed for not thinking of it herself. “Yes, that's a good idea.”

“Let's wait to talk about it,” I said. “I want to come up with a plan first.”

“You're serious?” She smiled. “Well, Brooke, I think you're definitely on to something.” She then told us she was going up to her room to get ready to go to the movies with Gary Davis, a boy our age who was really more of a friend than anything else.

We were permitted to go out on dates once we reached sixteen, but we had to be back before eleven
P.M.
The curfew was strictly enforced. Violate one of the rules and you couldn't go out on a date for a month, maybe two. Crystal and I had been out on a few dates, but Butterfly got nervous every time a boy even tried to talk to her.

Raven was always trying to fix us up on double dates though I never really understood why until Crystal told me that she thought Raven didn't really like to be alone with the boys she dated. I asked Crystal why Raven agreed to dates then and Crystal just said that Raven was an optimist, always looking for the good in people.

Since Raven had had the most dates, she was always willing to give advice to us about boys, how to find out if they were sincere, or if they were just out for cheap thrills. She also had lots of ways to get rid of the ones who tried to go too far. Apparently she had a lot of experience fending off unwanted advances. She said that half of the boys she dated could go by the nickname “Octopus.”

When I had a crush on a boy on my tennis team,
Bobby Sanders, I asked Raven why he never looked twice at me. She said it was probably because I never let him win when we played against each other.

“Boys don't like girls to be better than them at sports. You hurt their egos,” she explained.

“I just tried to make the game fun,” I claimed.

“No, you didn't. You tried to win. You always play to win,” she accused with a smile. I couldn't deny it. She was right. It wasn't in me to deliberately lose at anything. Would that make it impossible for me to ever find someone to love and to love me?

I hated asking Crystal's opinion about such matters. She would take off her glasses, wipe her lenses, think a moment and then start describing the mating habits of whales or something.

“Don't tell me about animals,” I would complain. “People are different.”

“Not really,” she would say and then go on to discuss evolution and how people are really a lot more like animals than they think.

Spare me, I would think and find some excuse to get away before she gave me a test.

It was easier living vicariously through Raven, easier to lie in bed and wait for her to return from her date, and then, as she got undressed, listen to her describe the night, watching the images form behind my eyes. She usually enjoyed telling me about her dates as much as I liked to listen, but when she returned from her date with Gary I could tell that something was wrong.

“I don't know what got into Gary tonight,” she said angrily. “I guess he's just like all the others. His hands were everywhere. When I finally kicked him to get him off of me he laughed.” She paused
for a shaky breath. “He said everyone knew what girls like me were good for. He said he'd heard stories about me!”